


everything in my power

by casdoms (moffwithhishead)



Series: season 10 codas [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Angst, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Episode Tag, Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, M/M, Mark of Cain, brief mentions of dean's urges bc of the mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moffwithhishead/pseuds/casdoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't want to kill you," he blurts out in response.</p><p>"That is... very comforting," Cas deadpans. It makes Dean chuckle.</p><p>"And I have every faith that you won't." </p><p>"I don't."</p><p>"I know. But I can believe for you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything in my power

**Author's Note:**

> so I started writing this like the day after 10.14 aired because I was more awake and could expand on the thing cain said and then work got in the way so I only just finished this (I should be doing homework, don't tell my professor this). but here's an angsty coda with some weirdly angsty fluff at the end.
> 
>  **warnings** : dean uses alcohol as a coping mechanism, brief mentions of violent gory things the mark encourages, talk of character death... basically it's on par with the show at the moment, except dean's more honest than he'd ever be and there's gratuitous dean and cas being dean and cas stuff.

__****"If either one of us  
is bound  
to get hurt from this,  
I’ll do everything  
in my power  
to make sure  
that it won’t  
be you."

[Connotativewords](http://connotativewords.tumblr.com/) 

* * *

 

 

 "Now, that one..." 

The words echo in his head, a never ending soundtrack to his worst nightmares.

"That, I suspect, would hurt something awful." 

Dean groans and lets his head fall forward into his hands, his fingers immediately moving to try and wipe the memories from his brain. 

The Mark aches in a way that it never has before. It almost feels sentient now, a being in and of itself. It's not a part of Dean anymore;  _Dean_  is a part of the Mark. 

It makes him angry and nauseous all at once, but Cain's words keep echoing in the silence of the car ride home, in the silence of the bunker and then his bedroom. They echo in his breathing, in his heartbeat. Dean swears the loud thumping in his chest is working in time with the cadence of Cain's voice and his taunts.

Killing Sam hadn't been news to him. He's not sure why Cain thought that would hurt, not after all this time.

He's not an idiot. Dean's Cain and Sam's Abel in this storyline and the only way this is gonna end is with one of them in the ground. The odds are not in Sam's favor. Those dreams have become so common, so plentiful and so fucking vivid that they've stopped being nightmares. Some mornings Dean has a hard time looking his brother in the eye without telling him how he had killed him this time.

He has no intention of letting it happen - he'd sooner kill himself than kill his brother - but, still. It wasn't some unknown plot twist that knocked him off his boots. The dreams have been enough of a warning for Dean to know that was a possibility since he was given the Mark. 

Killing Crowley was a bi-weekly fantasy of his, both pre and post Mark.

All that idea does now is make the Mark ache in that intense, vaguely pleasant way that it resonates when it wants blood. He wants to rip Crowley limb from limb, tear him into tiny pieces and then set those pieces on  _fire_. 

But killing  _Cas_?

No. It's -

Dean shakes his head and looks back down at the glass of whiskey sitting on the garage floor in between his legs. 

The thought hasn't crossed his mind in  _years_. Not since Cas went nuclear and opened up fucking Purgatory, absorbing those damn souls. Even then though, the idea of killing Cas, it... 

He groans and rubs an aggressive hand through his hair.

It makes him nauseous and his soul ache - or, at least he  _thinks_  it's his soul. He's not sure what that ache is anymore, now that he's...

A human? A demon? A Knight? None of the above?

Again, he groans. He seems to be doing that a lot these days.

His phone rings where it's stashed inside the Impala's trunk with the jacket of his that's got Cain's blood on it that he can't decide if he wants to keep or not.

He sighs and reluctantly gets up to answer it. He knows that ringtone. He knows it'll keep ringing and ringing until he answers, until he talks. It's stupid, really, how absolutely predictable this whole thing has become to him. 

Fuck up. Sam talks to Cas about him behind his back. They take turns treating Dean like a child. 

He has about three seconds to answer before it stops ringing though so he does and immediately breathes out an exhausted, " _What_ , Cas?"

" _Dean_ ," the other man lets out a relieved breath on the other end, " _Where are you?_ "

"Antigua," he spits back, irrationally annoyed by the question and Cas' tone, and goes back over to his drink. "Why? You wanna send me a fucking post card or something? Drop by and visit for once?" 

He slams the rest of the whiskey back in one gulp and it burns.  _Oh_ , does it burn.

Dean feels it from the back of his throat down to the tips of his toes. That warm, familiar feeling that envelopes him when he drinks too much, too fast. The feeling that lately means he might not feel the Mark as much tonight.

" _You're angry_ ," is all Castiel says in response. 

Dean snorts and sets the glass down on one of the work benches against the wall, "No fucking shit, Sherlock." 

That's the problem with the Mark, though. He knows he's angry. He's angry all the time now, with most everyone, but he's not always sure  _why_. It's incredibly unnerving for someone like Dean who thrives when he has a purpose and an understanding of the world around him.

Most days, it feels like he's floating in a homicidal limbo and he's got no idea what any of it means. 

Cas hesitates for a few beats before asking hesitantly, " _Are you angry at me?_ " 

He takes a moment to consider the question by pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

 _Is_  he mad at Cas? 

Sometimes he is. Sometimes he remembers Cas' deal with Crowley and his death and everything feels fresh all over again. Sometimes he remembers Purgatory, remembers the crypt, remembers the constant feeling of rejection that year and he gets upset. 

Mad is a relative term for them. Dean's not sure if he's ever been mad at Cas but no, he doesn't think he's ever been angry at Cas just for the sake of being angry. Not like this, anyway. 

"Sometimes," he admits quietly before he gives himself permission to actually say it. Dean takes another gulp of whiskey before saying anything else, "Sometimes I kinda want to punch you. With and without the Mark."

To his surprise, Castiel just chuckles a little bit and murmurs, " _I am acquainted with that feeling_." 

Dean just snorts and slides down onto the floor with his back against the wall, his knees ending up tucked against his chest, "Yeah? You wanna punch yourself or punch me?"

He swears he can hear his best friend roll his eyes and he sounds a little exasperated when he says, " _Why would I punch myself?_ " 

It makes Dean laugh a little. It's not a genuine laugh and it sounds as hollow as it feels but at least it's something. 

"So," he clears his throat after a minute and watches as he swishes the whiskey around in his glass, "What's up?" 

He's still angry, he's still hurt. He suspects that might be something that's there all the time now and it's going to take some time getting used to. Swallowing it down is harder than it was before he had the Mark.

" _Your brother is worried about you_ ," Castiel admits with a sigh. 

" _Really_??" Dean says dramatically, as if the other man just informed him that his brother is very tall, "I had no fucking clue, Cas." He takes a drink of the whiskey, lets the bitter feeling in his gut settle before grumbling, "That would explain the fucking baby monitor in my room, huh?" 

" _Your sarcasm has been duly noted. I will be sure to inform Sam that you have found the monitor and ask him to hide it some place new._ " 

He snorts inelegantly, watches the whiskey move around in his glass some more.

Castiel sighs after a few minutes of silence, " _Dean... I -_ " He lets out a breath and the phone rustles as Cas moves his head around, " _I'm worried about you too_." 

"Good," Dean responds immediately, his voice unwavering. "You should be. Maybe you guys can start a club and talk about me in person like I don't exist instead of over the phone. Gotta be waisting a lot of minutes, Cas." 

He's bitter as hell and he does nothing to hide it. 

" _It's not -_ " Cas starts, but Dean cuts him off. 

"Don't," he growls and rubs a hand over his face. "Don't tell me that it's not like that, like you guys aren't fucking talking about me behind my back, okay? You can call me too, you know that? You can fucking talk to me. I'm not a  _child_ , Cas."

" _Dean..._ " 

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to even out his breathing. He can feel his blood thrumming with more force than before, his heartbeat louder, the anger more palpable. The Mark is throbbing with his frustration, his hurt and his anger, and  _God_ , he wants to give in. 

But there they are again, running through his head. Cain's taunts.

>   
>  _And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one... that, I suspect, would hurt something awful_. 

"I get that you're probably scared of me or some shit," he manages to get out through his gritted teeth. 

It feels like his phone might snap in half with how tight he's gripping it. 

"But..." Dean laughs a little brokenly and hits the floor with his free hand, wanting to feel something break with them. He wants to destroy things, destroy bodies, but he  _can't_. "Shit, man, I'm fucking terrified of me too." 

He thinks it's the first time he's said that out loud. 

Cas lets out a sharp breath and murmurs, " _Oh, Dean..._ " 

Dean wipes his face off and pretends that his hand isn't wet when it pulls away from his cheeks, "Don't, okay? Don't fucking tell me that it's going to be fine or that I'm gonna be okay cause we both know that's a load of horse shit." 

>   
>  _Hurt something awful_.

Cain's voice echoes in his head, bouncing against the walls of his skull.

"I've got -" His breath hitches as he tries to ignore the voice, the words making his heart beat faster, "I've got no fucking clue what's happening to me, Cas. I got no idea what the fuck I am anymore. All I know is sometimes, I really want to rip people apart with my bare hands. That's all I've got to go on, Cas, and it scares the shit out of me, man."

He laughs and it hurts. Not just because of his bruised ribs.

It's barely a laugh and it sounds more like the noise a bird might make when every bone in its body is broken but it doesn't know that yet. 

"And God, I... I'm trying so fucking  _hard_ , Cas. I've been trying so hard. " 

His breath stutters before he forces himself to admit, "But the Mark, it's - it's fighting back harder. It's stronger than me and I can't... I don't know who I am anymore. Nobody looks at me like I'm a -" he hesitates, "Nobody looks at me like I'm a fucking  _person_  anymore, Cas."

" _That's not -_ "

Dean laughs again and this time it's a little more genuine because whatever Cas was going to say is already ridiculous, "It is, Cas. That's exactly what the fuck this is. I'm not  _me_  to you and Sam anymore. I know that, okay? I know that I'm a ticking time bomb to you two. I fucking know that and I don't blame you." 

He hasn't been able to look himself in the mirror much these days.

Seeing his face looking the same as it always has makes him nauseous now. He doesn't feel like Dean anymore. He feels like he's walking around in someone else's life, someone else's skin.

It hurts knowing that the only two people he has in the world are scared of him but shit, how mad can he be when he's scared of himself too?

" _Dean..._ " Cas' voice sounds rough and thick and so very  _human_  that it makes his chest ache, " _That's -_ " He sighs quietly, " _Is there anything I can do?_ " 

No, not without sacrificing himself, there's not. And that would be just as bad as Dean killing Cas himself. 

"No," he huffs a little and shakes his head, trying to clear it of the angry fog. "No, it's - it's fine. No, fuck, it's not fine but you can't - I'm not gonna ask you to do that." Dean looks up at the ceiling of the garage and tries to focus on counting the spots up there that need painting, "'m not gonna..." 

He's not going to prove Cain right.

Maybe he can't fight the Mark forever but he's not - he's not going to kill his family. Maybe he's stuck as a cold blooded killer but he's not going to kill Sam and Cas. Not them.

He doesn't say any of that, though. He feels like saying it out loud might make it too real, might tempt the universe into fulfilling that prophecy. 

" _Dean... what..._ " He can hear Cas lick his lips on the other end, " _What did Cain say to you?_ " 

The fight replays in his mind, Cain's taunts echoing through his whole body. 

> _Do you think if you hold back just enough, you won't succumb, that you'll leave this fight the same as you entered?_

> _This may be hard to believe in light of what I'm about to do to you, but I care about you, Dean. I truly do. But I know I'm doing you a favor. I'm saving you._

> _Have you never mused upon the fact that you're living my life in reverse? My story began when I killed my brother, and that's where your story inevitably will end._

>   
>  _And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now, that one -- that I suspect would hurt something awful_.

He coughs and shakes his head, trying to clear it, "'s not important." 

Cas makes a noise that lets Dean know he's well aware of that lie but he's not going to press the issue. Not right now, not when Dean's upset. 

" _Whatever he said to you... Dean, you know that's not true, right?_ " 

He wants to laugh - like a real, deep laugh that's so great and so cumbersome that he has to use his whole body to do it - but he doesn't. The truth in Cain's words weigh too heavy on him, setting him even more on edge.

Maybe he's not a ticking time bomb, but Cain's words serve as their own  _tick tick tick tick tick_. 

"Yeah," is what he says instead, his voice sounding like he gargled with some glass. "Yeah, Cas, I know." 

They're silent for a few minutes and Dean lets his eyes close, listening to the quiet remnants of the noise Sam's making inside the bunker. It's not loud enough to drown Cain or the Mark out, but it's soothing like the sound of the Impala's engine going down a highway. It's familiar and comforting.

" _I know that Cain said there is no cure_ ," Cas rumbles out a few minutes later, sounding more collected and determined than he had before. " _But I don't believe that to be the case. I'm - I'm going to keep looking for answers, Dean. And I promise that I will find something_." 

He doesn't want hope anymore. It gets too hard if he thinks there might be a way out of this.

He knows Sam and Cas are going to keep looking, and Sam's probably going to ask Charlie to keep looking for them, but he doesn't want their answers. The odds that they'll find something are slim and the odds that what they do find will work are even slimmer. 

He's tired of hoping and getting his heart broken.

"Maybe this is it for me, man," Dean mumbles and covers his eyes with his hand for a moment. "Maybe this is how I go out. Not with a whimper, but with..." He smirks ruefully to himself, ignoring the nausea building in his stomach at the idea of it all, "Maybe I go out with a big fucking bloody bang." 

Cas makes a slightly indignant noise and huffs, " _I will not let you 'go out' like that, Dean Winchester_." 

"What if I want to?"

The angel's breath stutters for a moment before there's rustling again, and Dean can only assume he's shaking his head, " _I... no._ "

He sighs, "Cas -"

" _No_ ," Castiel growls a little, cutting Dean off. " _You are too good and too pure and too wonderful to die like that, Dean. You don't -_ " He makes a frustrated noise, " _You don't deserve this!_ " 

Dean snorts a little at how angry Cas sounds, unable to help himself, "Yeah, well, it's not exactly like the universe has ever been kind to me, man." 

" _Don't you dare talk about yourself like that, Dean Winchester_." 

Castiel continues before he can say anything else, " _You are the most beautiful soul I have ever bared witness to, Dean Winchester. You are better than the Mark. You are better than you give yourself credit for. You are better than you will ever know. You are good and kind and smart and loving and beautiful in so many ways and you do not deserve this. And I'm going to fight for you, Dean, whether you want me to or not. Because I love you and I would rather have you with the Mark than not have you at all - do you understand me?_ " 

He knows that he should be focusing on what Cas said and the way he said it, but his brain grabbed on to one piece. 

 _Because I love you_.

"You  _love_  me?" 

Cas makes a noise like he started to answer but cuts himself off almost immediately. 

Dean compensates by letting out a breathy noise that might be a laugh, might be a sob - it's hard to tell anymore. "You... you dumb son of a bitch."

" _I resemble that remark,_ " is all Cas says in response. He sounds a little bit sheepish but he doesn't sound like he regrets saying it. The thought makes Dean's heart pound harder in his chest, harder than the Mark has ever made it.

"Cain told me that I was going to kill you." 

He's not sure why he says it. His brain catches up long after his mouth has spoken.

" _I know_." 

Dean just plows through that admission, "He said I was going to kill Crowley."

" _I know._ " 

The next one takes a beat for him to make his mouth form the words, "He said I was going to kill Sam." 

" _I know._ " 

"I love you."

" _I know._ " 

He hears himself make some sort of noise of amusement or fondness, he's not really sure, and he runs a hand over his face again, "Is there anything you don't know, Cas?" 

It takes the other man a few moments to answer, " _The location of my Grace._ " 

"We can figure that out," he offers immediately.

His head feels fuzzy and the room is definitely spinning now, but it's in a good way. Like he's a kid again with him and Sam taking turns spinning each other on tire swings when they should've been in school. 

" _I am not going to stop looking for answers for you, Dean_ ," Cas' voice rumbles quietly through his chest, settling right under his heart and making him feel all warm in a pleasant way. 

"You can't save me." 

" _And you most probably cannot find my Grace_ ," Cas counters easily, " _But that is not going to stop either one of us from trying_." 

He's right and Dean has no real response to that.

"I love you." 

" _I love you too, Dean._ " 

"You're an idiot," he huffs out but he's smiling a little. 

" _Perhaps_ ," Cas hums, and Dean swears he can hear the smile, " _But I made my peace with that a very long time ago_." 

"I don't want to kill you," he blurts out in response.

" _That is... very comforting_ ," Cas deadpans. It makes Dean chuckle.

" _And I have every faith that you won't._ " 

"I don't."

" _I know. But I can believe for you._ " 

Dean bites his lip and stares at the Mark, ignoring the throbbing coming from it, the feelings of outright indignant refusal emanating from it, "I... I just." He lets out a quiet breath, "I wish you were here. With me."

" _I will be home_ ," Cas' voice rumbles soothingly in his ear. " _Eventually_." 

"No dying out there," Dean grumbles in response as the Mark glows a little. 

Castiel chuckles a little bit, " _I won't if you won't_." 

It's not a promise that either one of them can make. It's naive and it's hopeless, like so many things in their lives, but it's out there, and they mean it all the same.

So he doesn't say that they have a deal, and he doesn't agree to the terms set forth, because he's tired of lying to Cas, and he's tired of Cas lying to him. Instead he remembers a warehouse and a time when he felt alone and helpless, much like he's been feeling for the last few months.

"I still mean it, you know." 

Cas takes a minute to catch up and when he does, something in Dean's chest stutters because he can almost feel the smile on the other man's face, " _As do I._ "

"You'll go with me?" 

He means it as a joke but it's too real, too relevant and too fresh to their current situations, and he feels stupid saying it. 

" _I always do_." 

 

* * *

 

" **I’ll be your**  
**slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue**  
**and final resting.** " 

_Richard Siken_

**Author's Note:**

> title and quote from [here.](http://samerasure.tumblr.com/post/111948939437/if-either-one-of-us-is-bound-to-get-hurt-from) find me (and this fic) at samerasure on tumblr.


End file.
